


Relative Bedroom Freedom

by pandaspots



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Awkward First Times, F/M, This was supposed to be PWP, cis female eren jaeger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 16:50:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3454559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandaspots/pseuds/pandaspots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Supposed to be a kink meme fill that became a fill for like, three prompts<br/>it spiraled out of control like that</p>
<p>Irem Jaeger is a pretty pretty girl, and she knows it. Jean's life summary is 'I am doomed'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relative Bedroom Freedom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marleymars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marleymars/gifts).



> i found this one (http://snkkink.dreamwidth.org/13546.html?thread=9917930) prompt on the kink meme and started writing for it but then i saw other three or four fem!eren prompts and they all blended together  
> here's the result
> 
> thanks to Nadia for the name or i'd be stuck on it for like, until my laptop decided to reboot on its own
> 
> i also would like to apologize for going the predictable, cisnormative way with the fem!eren thing. it wouldn't let me write my normal stuff unless it got the hell out first.

Jean saw no two ways about it. Irem was beautiful.

She tried hard not to be, because being pretty in the military attracted all kinds of trouble. Pretty girls got molested by higher ups left and right, and nothing short of the toughest ones made it unscathed to the end of the training.

Irem wasn't what you'd call tough. She was slender, her wrists were delicate, her body had a shape Jean had only seen when walking through the brothel district in Trost.

(If Irem knew he saw her without her shirt, though, she'd slice his dick up, and serve it as breakfast.)

Her hips swayed when she walked, and people stared.

Jean considered himself lucky, since Irem never caught him staring. It'd be his end if she did, because he heard of horrible things happening to dudes that got caught ogling her ass. But today he couldn't stop, and it'd be well worth the risk.

Irem was decked in a red dress, her hair done in curls, pinned up with a shiny  barrette , and someone had managed to make her wear make up, so her eyes were popping out. She looked dazzling. She was accompanying Captain Levi, smiling sweetly at the nobles, bowing her head, flirting with their sons.

It made him sick.

She wasn't like that. She wasn't this demure, this meek. The last time someone tried flirting with her she broke their jaw. But he knew why she was doing it.

The nobles financed their exploits in the Scouting Legion, and they were more inclined to give their money if they thought it was going to a pretty girl, even if said girl was a titan. Irem looked dazzling and that's all they cared  about , to be honest. Then, one of the rich kids groped her ass, and Jean couldn't just be a passive observer anymore.

“Keep your filthy hands to yourself.” He growled, pulling Irem to the side, putting himself between the noble boy with the grubby hands and the girl.

“Jean, what the fuck are you doing?” She hissed, but didn't oppose to being shielded by a chivalrous fellow soldier; it would be against the persona she's putting on.

“What are you doing, soldier?” The stuck up noble boy asked, puffing up. Jean didn't let himself be intimidated by him; he's seen titans up close, and a fat, spoiled kid wasn't even a challenge.

“I'm keeping your grubby hands off her. Or do you have eyes on your hands?” Jean replied, coolly, glaring down at the gross kid.

“My dad pays your salary.” He replied as if that was an excuse for doing as he pleased.

“That means your dad could touch her, not you.” Jean shot back, not missing a beat. “But since he didn't, you'd better follow his example. You're Harlan's son, right? I wonder what your father would say if I told him his son was disrespecting an honored guest like that.”

The boy blanched, and apologized quickly, before disappearing into the crowd.

“What the fuck, Jean. I got everything under control.” She scoffed.

“Yeah, right. Rich boy over there was going to keep groping you and you'll break up character. Just doing my duty to the corps.” He waved his hand dismissively.

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” Irem gave him her best winning smile, and Jean's heart did a loop. “Don't get used to it, people are watching.”

“You're not gonna punch me? Thanks the Walls.” He commented, sarcastically.

“Bitch. I'm going to meet the commander, they're calling me.” She bowed, still smiling, tilting her head to the side to look flirtingly at Jean while going to where she was needed in this farce.

She smelled like rose water. Captain Levi probably made her sit in a bathtub full of the thing for two hours before coming, otherwise she'd still smell like horse fur and sweat. As it was, there was a fresh, pine-ish background smell to her that made Jean's mouth water.

He was doomed. Completely and utterly doomed. He started daydreaming about those curls, disheveled and spread on his pillow, about those hands scoring down his back, those legs around his waist, that mouth curving around moans. He shook his head and hailed a waiter who was passing by with champagne flutes, gratefully grabbing one and downing it.

He surely wasn't dealing with his stupid crush on Irem totally sober.

Within the hour, he was sulking to the side, more drunk than sober, a glass of wine in his hands, grumpily watching Irem dance with one of the crusty old men that supported financially the Legion, laughing at whatever thing the man said, moving slightly to the slow song the band played. She soon excused herself, making a slight face while explaining something to the old man, who smiled and kissed her hand. She headed for the cushy couch Jean was laying about, and sat beside him, stealing his wine glass.

“You look pathetic.” Irem commented cheerfully.

“And you're acting like a whore.” He said, more aggressively than he meant.

“Fuck you. Are you drunk?” She turned to him, big green eyes checking him up and down while taking a sip of his wine.

“That is none of your business, is it, Miss Fake Smile.” He muttered, whisking back his wine glass, chugging it down.

“You're such a pleasant drunk.” Irem sighed, and got up. “I filled my time quota here, I'm heading back to headquarters. Wanna go too, I can't very well fight off creeps in these heels.”

He knew she was asking him because Mikasa and Armin were actually having fun in this event, but still the butterflies in his stomach rose up, making him weak at the request. She was even more beautiful when he was drunk, the dizziness making a halo around her shiny hair and dark skin.

“Yeah, sure. You owe me one, though.” Jean slurred, getting up and following her as she said her goodbyes, assuring the old men that she was perfectly fine going home, that Jean was a capable and strong soldier and would protect her from any street thug, no worries. When she put on her sweet façade, the old nobles forgot she was a soldier and a titan shifter, and consequently stronger than any soldier in the Legion. She was too beautiful to be a soldier. Her neck was too thin and delicate. Her arms too perfect, her smile too sweet.

Jean sighed the moment they were out of the ballroom, the moment Irem's smile fell. Even under the make up, that scowl was familiar, more natural. She looked stunning to Jean, even with her face contorted into an expression of displeasure.

“I can't wait to get these things off.” She whined, holding Jean's arm. “My feet are killing me.”

“Serves you well for being a bitch.” He commented, scowling at the strength of her grip.

“You're more of an asshole today, what's your damn problem?” She nearly yelled, hailing a carriage in front of the noble's house. “Scouting Legion headquarters, please.” She told the driver, who opened the door for her. Jean helped her up just because it was the polite thing to do.

In the carriage, he couldn't help but smell her. He leaned in, breathing in the smell of roses that came from her skin, mixed with something fruity from drinking champagne and wine. It was intoxicating. 

“Hey, what are you doing, you pervert?!” She practically screamed, shoving him away.

“You smell so good.” Jean muttered, touching his face to her neck and breathing in. A small strangled noise made it out of her throat, and he thought for a delirious moment that she would let him kiss her. That's when her elbow made contact with his stomach, making him gag and sputter.

“Fuck off.” She said, refusing to look at Jean.

“You're so pretty, you have no idea how pretty you are.” The wine kept speaking for him, and he grabbed her hand and started kissing up her arm, earning himself a slap on the face.

“You're drunk. I should've bothered Mikasa and Armin, after all.” She turned her head away, scooting closer to the door.

He woke up the next day with a bruise in his belly and a killer hangover.

Armin looked like he was going to say something, but decided against it.

Irem was back to looking like herself, but she was far more belligerent against Jean. Last night was a blur, but he was pretty sure he did something he was currently regretting. She didn't banter with him, or have a friendly argument over something Armin would point out they are both wrong, or even trip him when he was carrying boxes to the cart, now that they were preparing to head back to Stohess. She just carried her share, and mounted her horse wordlessly, frowning and huffing whenever her gaze happened upon him.

While they were riding, Jean decided to flank Irem.

“Are you going to keep ignoring me?” He yelled, and she didn't answer, just looked straight ahead. “Whatever I did yesterday, I'm sorry, okay? I wasn't thinking!” He told her, and she finally deigned to look at him.

“Yeah, well, you were a creep bigger than those old men yesterday, so you better be real sorry!” She yelled back, and he felt guilty.

He left Irem alone until they got to Stohess, and after they unloaded the cart, he cornered her behind the building.

“Look, I barely remember last night, but I remember calling you beautiful. I regret getting all up on your space, but I don't regret telling you the truth.” He said, blushing from head to toe.

Irem regarded him. Her intense green eyes scrutinized him, before she sighed and looked down.

“Liar. You're only saying that 'cause you wanna fuck me.”

Jean stood, paralyzed. He blinked several times, trying to process what just came out of her mouth. 

“Well...” He started, careful. “I won't lie, I'm a man and I have needs, and I might have thought of it, but I wouldn't call you beautiful if that was all I wanted from you.” Jean put his hand on the back of his neck, looking everywhere but Irem's face.

She laughed at him, snorting, not at all attractive.

“You're fucking lying. You're still thinking of that farce I had to put up yesterday.” She wiped a tear, still laughing, doubling over.

“Well, if that was your intention, the illusion that you were a tiny, cute goddess is completely and utterly shattered.” He mumbled, grumpily.

“Good. Whatever even did you see in me, I think I threw you on your back during training more often than you managed to land a hit.” She said, amusedly.

“I swear to the Walls, I have no idea. You're a bitch.” He snarled and she punched him.

Irem swinged at him, and her fist found his cheek, but she was obviously not trying to break his face. He could see in her face she was beyond angry, and it had probably something to do with the things he said to her last night. She tried to hit his face again, but he blocked her, grabbing her arm and pulling her close so she'd have less space to build momentum. They scuffled a bit, until she had him pinned to the ground, smiling victoriously, sitting on his hips.

“Loser. Who's a bitch now?” She said breathlessly, the hair that fell loose from her bun framing her face beautifully. Like a warrior goddess.

Only when he felt her stiffen up was that he realized he said that out loud. Irem was eerily quiet, and Jean feared for his life. Distantly, he remembered this was the same girl that brutally murdered slave traders at the tender age of nine. In his head, he was already planning his will.

“When we were little,” she said, instead, “Armin had this book from the old civilizations that lived before the time of the Walls. It was about the old gods of the people. One of these gods was called Freyja, and she was a warrior. She took the dead warriors' souls to this place where they lived forever. She was also the goddess of sex.” She explained, slowly.

“Sounds like you.” Jean said, mind reeling. “I mean, insanely hot girl who can kick anyone's ass, ask anyone.”

Irem had the decency to blush.

“Shut up. You're a fucking idiot.”

Her grip slacked, and Jean took the opportunity to flip their positions, Irem's legs spread around his, looking stunned.

“Dear Walls, how can you not see how beautiful you are? We have mirrors at headquarters. Your skin, your hair, your eyes, you're like a dream with a terrible attitude.”

Unfortunately for Jean, he didn't have the spirit to pin her hands down. She punched him in the stomach, over his preexistent bruise, leaving him to writhe on the ground.

“Ugh, gross. Now I need a bath.” She dusted herself to the best of her abilities, but there was dirt in her hair, and stuck to her skin.

He stood there, laying on the ground until Connie came for him. He did it. He told Irem (mostly) about his dumb crush on her.  _Here's to hoping she doesn't kill me in my sleep_ , he thought, praying to the wall goddesses for protection.

Irem didn't, in fact, murder him in his sleep. Instead, she was avoiding him at all costs. She  ate her breakfast before everyone else, she trained where he wasn't, she even asked Captain Levi to not put her on any duty with him. Until one day Captain got tired of her asking, and Jean was surprised it took him a whole month.

They were cleaning the floors no one used, in dead silence. One could only hear their breathing and the noises the cleaning tools made when they touched a surface. Jean tried to break the ice several times, but she wasn't paying him any attention.

He was fed up with this whole avoiding thing. So he cornered her again, while she was putting her tools away when they finished the entire floor.

“Okay, are you gonna stop running away from me, or...?” He asked, pinning her to the wall.

“Let me go!” She yelled, thrashing, but Jean was much too close for doing anything that would hurt him, and the wall behind her prevented her from kicking.

“No, I won't. Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on. Was it because of what I said?”

She took a deep breath, turning an enticing tone of red.

“I... don't really get complimented all that much, okay? I don't know how to react to people finding me attractive.” She blurted out. “I was gonna avoid you until I figured it out.”

“You know, if it helps, most girls giggle and say thank you.” He offered. She stared at him, disbelieving.

“Seriously? That's it? They get their whole family congratulated on the evolutionary success, and all they have to say is a giggle and thank you?” Irem shook her head, rolling her eyes. Leave it to the daughter of a doctor to make things more complicated than they ought to be.

“Irem. It's just a compliment. No need to overthink things. It's not meant for your entire family, it's meant for you. It'd be kinda creepy to call your mom hot.” He shuddered at the thought.

“I don't know, people who knew her before the fall of Maria say I look like her, so maybe you should rethink your line of thought.” She said, smugly.

“You're insufferable.”

“You love me.” She pointed out, getting closer.

“I wouldn't go that far.” He replied, smelling earth and grass and horses. Now this was the smell he was used to, this now was the Irem he accidentally fell for, even if she's a brat and slightly psychotic.

“Ah, fuck, good enough.” She closed the distance between their mouths, launching herself at Jean, pulling him close, leaving him stunned for a moment before he decided to stop questioning the world and just give in, pushing her back onto the wall, letting her bite his lower lip.

His arms wound around her waist, and her hands pulled at his hair, and he licked her lips.

“That's gross.” She smiled at him, leaning up to suck on his lip.

“You're gross.” He shot back, tentatively sliding his hands to her hips, fingers inching down to her backside. He didn't lose his arms right away so he figured he was a-okay to grope lightly at her butt.

“I hope you two horndogs finished your chores before attending to your hormones.” Captain Levi drawled from some point behind Jean, and Irem froze in place, before groaning and hiding her blushing face in Jean's shirt.

“Yes, sir. It's all clean, sir.” She replied, as clearly as possible considering her face was shoved in Jean's shoulder.

“Let me be the judge of that, Jaeger.” He said, disbelieving.

Jean lifted his hands from her ass to her waist, trying to keep a modicum of decency. Irem kept muttering about shitty luck and getting caught with horseface. 

“Shut up, Irem, you wanted to ride this horse here not five minutes ago.” He gloated, whispering.

“Keep this up and I'll show you what we do to horses that don't obey.” She hissed, pulling on his hair.

After the captain dismissed them, though, Irem disappeared to parts unknown, and Jean thought she was back to ignoring him. He was speechless when he found her on his bedroom, cleaning her 3DMG rotor, with her hair damp and only a towel around her for clothing.

“What is the meaning of this?” He asked, hesitantly.

Irem look ed at him and smirk ed . Jean fe lt a chill go down his spine; this did not bide well for him.

“I drew a bath for you. Get cleaned.” She said simply, returning her attention to the fine inner workings of the gear.

“Should I be scared or?” He shamelessly started stripping, and was pleased to see Irem stealing looks and blushing. He was more pleased to see that she started shifting on his bed, uncomfortable. He sat in the bathtub and started cleaning his skin, dunking underwater quickly to get his hair wet.

“Like you're ever scared of little old me. Even when I'm a fifteen meters class titan.” She tried to sound nonchalant, but it came out a little breathless.

“Well, it is kinda hard to be scared of a titan who needs a giant scrunchie to hold its hair up.” He pointed out, and Irem groaned. She finished fine-tuning her gear, putting it on the ground, then flopping on the bed. Her position gave Jean a fairly good view of the fact she wasn't wearing any underwear.

“It's not my fault, okay? It's more practical than chopping through titan hair everytime.” She defended herself. None of them mention it would be easier to cut her human hair.

“Well, and I see that for your plans for today, no panties were also more practical.” He leered, and she meeped and slapped her legs shut, turning to one side, the towel popping open and leaving her no choice but getting up and redoing the towel dress. “Aw, no sneak peek? Will I have to suffer through a whole bath?” He whined, playfully, and she glared.

“Yes.” She replied, serious.

“You're so mean, Irem.” He complained again, soaping his body and cleaning his dick to the best of his abilities. “I'm surprised you even get any game with your meanness.”

Irem sat back and flopped back on his bed, face first belly down, not even caring that the position exposed her butt.

“Wait.” He stared. “You're a virgin?” Jean asked, stunned.

It never even occurred to him that she wasn't going around as he thought she would. He forgot that, to most guys, bold and brash girls weren't all that attractive. Most guys preferred their girls quiet and pretty, but also agreeing with everything they said and pliant; basically everything Irem wasn't. She was beautiful, loud, opinionated and sometimes downright murderous. Not that Jean found anything wrong with girls that went along with what people expected of them, but apparently he had a thing or two for people who could beat him up.

He let her wail in self-commiserating pain while he stepped out of the bathtub and toweled himself off.

“So, you're a virgin.” He said, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice.

“So what if I am?” She mumbled into the pillow.

He used her distraction to slide his hand up her leg, and got as far up as the back of her thighs before she squeaked and kicked him on the shoulder.

“Ouch!”

“I'm sorry! I swear by the walls I didn't do it on purpose--” She tried apologizing, but Jean jumped her, pinning both her arms by the sides of her head.

He stared at her blushing face. She was more than capable of kicking his ass to kingdom come if she so wished, but here was Irem Jaeger, hot-tempered self-righteous bitch extraordinaire, being all  _cute_ and  _shy_ , Jean could barely take it. He kissed her, and she let him, all her earlier boldness gone. He let go of her wrists in favor of putting them on her half-naked hips. In the frenzy, her towel got loose, exposing a lot of her skin, and she let out a gasp when her naked breast touched Jean's chest.

“Why don't we get rid of the towels, babe?” He smirked against her mouth, and she made another squeak, doing her level best to cover herself again. “No, wait, don't hide yourself, please. Let me see how beautiful you are.” Jean tried to hold her hands down, but she _was_ stronger than him.

“Give me a moment, okay? I'm about to be naked in front of a _guy_ , I don't think you can comprehend how big that is for me, okay?” She snapped, crossing her arms to hold the towel over her torso.

“I didn't think you'd have a romantic bone in your body, Irem.” He teased.

“Shut the fuck up, I'm plenty romantic.” She raised a hand to punch him lightly on the arm.

“Like saving yourself for someone special?” He kept poking at her, smirking. She punched his arm harder.

“Fuck you. It's not someone special, just someone I trust.” She turned her head away, blushing even harder.

It was becoming really really hard for Jean not to do something terribly unmanly. Only the vague memory of reading that Irem murdered in cold blood two human traffickers kept him in line.

“I'm so flattered, babe.” He said, leaning to kiss her neck, making her breath hitch and her hands fly to his arms. His left hand slid up under her towel, groping at her waist, and she outright moaned. “By the walls, you sound so hot, Irem, I can't wait to see what other cute noises I can make you do...” Jean's hand on her hip squeezed, and she made a small whimpering noise that went straight to his dick.

He started to pull the towel off her, and was met with only a bit of reluctance and tensing muscles, but she still let him.  Jean licked his lips and she groaned, visibly fighting the urge to kick him in the dick.

“Just get on with it. Isn't it just stick it in and do the thing?” She asked, blushing furiously.

“Irem, innocent, naïve Irem--”

“Not sweet?” She cut in, squirming a little to try and cover her breasts.

“Yeah, no, let's not go that far.” He pinched her side lightly. 

“I'm letting you fuck me and you won't even go as far as to call me sweet?” She pouted, seeming legitimately put off and sad, tilting her head to the side, and Jean was done, cut him into slices and serve.

“Holy walls, Irem, what the fuck.” He practically moaned, hips bucking down.

“So, what were you going to tell me? 'Sweet, innocent Irem'...?” She prompted, laughing, and the sight nearly made him lose it.

“You're a danger to other people even when off duty, did you know? I was going to say, you gotta wind girls up, girls are not like boys, we think of things and we're ready to go.” He explained, looking away from those green eyes. “Girls have to get really into it, or you'll get hurt. Like, literally. How does a doctor's daughter not know that?”

She punched him on the arm.

“Yeah, you sure give the talk to a nine year old.” She rolled her eyes, tentatively raising her hands to his arms, the towel slipping off again. “So, what does a girl have to do to get some service around here?”

Jean made the mistake of looking at her. Irem's hair  was hanging in wet locks on his pillow, her tan skin a shade lighter where the sun didn't meet her skin daily. She was so different from his white, blond looks, like a goddess from the times before the walls; he barely could believe she was letting him touch her, let alone do the things they were about to do.

I t was the material of his wet dreams, insult s included.

“Babe, I swear to the walls, you're gonna kill me.” He groaned, leaning in to bite her neck.

S he moaned, surprised, digging her nails on his arms, leaving angry red marks on her fingers' wake. He bit harder and  her hands flew to his back. Jean happily let her do as she pleased, becoming increasingly harder with the subtle reminder embedded on his body of her strength. The single layer of cloth between them was starting to grate on his nerves, though.

“Can you kiss me?” Irem asked hesitantly, softly, almost as if afraid to be shut down. He simply gave one last nibble on her shoulder, moving up, taking in her lower lip in his mouth, sucking on it before touching their lips lightly.

“Can I?” He said, teasingly. She blushed harder, pecking his lips quickly, and trying to weasel out of his arms, but he held her down, his hands going from her hips to her shoulders. He mentally prepared himself to get kneed, or punched, or knocked out cold, but she let him, and damn if Jean wasn't losing his mind over this development. Here she was, the best hand-to-hand fighter in their class of trainees, a titan shifter, all stringy muscles and hidden strength, letting him pin her down and do as he pleased. He got an idea. “Say, Irem. Are you getting off of me manhandling you?”

She hid her face into her hands, groaning, but nodding. He smirked, letting go of her shoulders and sliding his hands down her body. He stopped a little at her breasts, groping, amazed at the softness and at how big they got despite them being slightly underfed and underweight. He wondered how big would they be if Wall Maria never fell and winced; they must be heavy now and a pain to deal with  when in 3DMG flight as they are, if they were bigger she'd probably be in pain from standing. He stashed the women's health questions for later, though, imagining they would violently murder the mood.

With one last fascinated grope, he resumed his exploration of her body, leaning down to kiss her collarbones, his hands on her waist feeling her muscles, the obvious toning  in mountains and valleys in the planes of her stomach. Her waist was tiny, not as small as Krista's obviously, but still small, and he marveled at how small was the distance between his thumbs.

M oving to her waist, she started to squirm again, and he held her tight in place, pushing her on the mattress.

“Do you like it when I hold you down?” She nodded again, still hiding her face, and he bit on her breast, sucking and rasping his teeth on her skin. Irem moaned, loud, and slapped her hands on her mouth, eyes wide. He chuckled. “Apparently you like biting as well. You don't want something, you really punch me, okay? I don't want to hurt you for real.”

“Just leave a lot of bruises and bite marks.” She muttered, breathless and very sarcastic.

“Well, it's not like you're opposed to the idea, you're not breaking my jaw yet.” He replied, mouth close to her skin, nosing her chest, breathing in her scent.

“Hmm, yeah, it feels nice.” She breathed out, arching off the bed, accidentally rubbing her hip on his dick and squeaking, gluing her hips to the bed, slightly horrified-looking.

“Oh, yes. Irem, meet my dick.” He outright laughed, sitting up on the bed so he wouldn't fall on her.

“I thought you were all dick.” She tried half-heartedly to kick him off his own bed. Jean held her leg and pulled it to his shoulder, kissing the inside of her foot and then her ankle.

“Well, I got my tricks.” He ran his fingertips down to the inside of her thigh, listening to her soft, muffled mewls. “I sort of wanted to hear you screaming, but I kinda don't want Captain Levi throwing me on the wall.”

She groaned, and used her leg on his shoulder to make him lean half off the bed.

“Please, don't talk about the captain in bed. My metaphorical boner just died.” Irem complained, letting him get back completely on the bed.

“I thought you were all about him, with how you fawned over him.” Okay, so Jean was jealous. It was hard not to, when barely two days before she spent almost all her time at their captain's arm, being pretty and nice and smiling.

“Oh my walls, you're jealous.”

“Am not.” He was going to deny it to his grave. “You're here, not in his bed.”

“Gross. He's like, old enough to be my dad, probably. It's just hero admiration.” She sighed and pulled herself to sit up. “So, what brought on this new wave of dickery not directed towards nicer activities?”

He tried responding, but got caught up in watching Irem squirm uncomfortably under his outright leering stare. He was vaguely aware that she was trying to get his eyes up  _here_ .

“Huh? Sorry, got distracted.” He said, and she snorted, blushing.

“Got distracted my ass, you zeroed on my boobs. Asshole.”

“Well, yeah, they're very nice boobs. Been wanting to grab them for forever.” He tried defending himself, but it sounded weak and not at all convincing.

“Look, are we gonna do this or not? I don't wanna sound like I'm only here to fuck, but...” She trailed off, looking away.

“Sorry.” He said before kissing her, moving his lips against hers, figuring it was about time his towel greeted the floor. She raised her hands to his hair, pulling at it, and he took it as a cue to do the same, threading his fingers through her locks, soft and slightly dry, and pulling at it. Her head matched his movement, exposing her neck, and he took to biting it enthusiastically, almost laughing at the way one of her hands stopped mauling his head in favor of muffling her moaning. “You're so cute, babe, all blushy and obedient. What will you do if I tell you to open your legs?”

His answer was the girl shyly  climbing on his lap, and his heart melted. Irem was trying so hard for him, being so cute and wonderful. He couldn't go about this as if he was in the red district, no, he would have to bring the finesse on.

He threw her on the bed, missing the headboard by barely an inch, and appreciated his handiwork. A darker patch of skin on her right breast and several reddened marks on her neck and shoulders. She was breathless and impossibly red, and seemed to be challenging him to  getting it on with her eyes.

He already had established this before, but he was so doomed.

“Damn it, Irem, it's getting real hard not to flip you over and fuck you into the mattress, do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” He complained, feigning indignation. She laughed.

“Yes.”

He stared at her long and hard. Her blush was very real, there was no way a human being could control that reaction. But suddenly he realized her movements were all calculated, and while he was busy looking at her breasts, she was busy looking at  _him_ .

“You're playing me.” Jean accused. “You're playing me like you played all the nobles in that party, and I happily went along with it.”

“Because sixteen year old boys are so much harder to play than sixty year old men.” She said, sarcastically. He couldn't find it in himself to be angry; she knew he enjoyed every second of it. It was written all over his dick. “So, you gonna live up to your talk anytime soon or will I have to figure out everything by myself?”

“I'm still trying to process the fact a virgin just played me like a seasoned prostitute. It's really hot and I'm trying to comprehend why is it so hot.”

“It's because I'm naked, and we're teenagers.” She said angrily. “Get on with it, leave the existential crisis for later.”

He assessed the situation. Irem was naked, legs spread, and had already expressed her preference for rough playing. He was naked as well and was probably the source of her blushing (and wasn't that a thing, making Irem hot and bothered for his dick), and he still wasn't balls deep in her.

That last thing definitely needed reiteration.

Jean attacked her lips, rough and  violently,  hands on her hips pulling their hips together, his dick sitting nicely between her legs, making them both moan into the kiss. He ground into her, and she scrambled to grab a handful of his hair,  pulling him in, her legs going around his waist.

He sat up, and pushed her down,  smirking. His hand went to her  labia, and she whined. His smirk widened; she was already so wet.

“Ready, babe?” He asked, and she nodded enthusiastically. “So eager, holy walls...” He said, leaning in, biting her neck over a red mark and sucking, and she writhed under his hands.

He grabbed his dick  with one hand and pushed her down with the other. Breathing in, he touched her labia with his cock 's  head, listening to her breathing get uneven  and getting harder. He pushed in, kissing up Irem's neck to her mouth, trying to get her to relax, fingers sliding on her thigh, and sooner than he thought he was as deep as he could.

“You're so wet, babe, what the fuck, you feel so good...” Jean murmured against her lips, and she smirked.

“Someone did a good job, it'd seem.” She whispered back, eyes closed, seemingly enjoying the feeling of having something inside.

“Thanks, I'm actually trying.” He replied, pulling out slowly. Irem frantically tried to get him to stop.

“No, no, no, no, what are you doing, stay here...” She said, arms around his neck and legs around his waist tightly.

“Babe, calm down, I'm not going anywhere.” He kissed her, sliding back in, and she gasped into his mouth. “See, this is how people do it. It's gotta come out a little,” he pulled out again, “and in again.” She moaned, and he allowed himself to feel smug.

J ean's hips started moving slowly, and his grip on her hips slacked a little, letting her find a position that was more comfortable and pleasurable by herself. Instinctively, she started arching her back, angling herself so that his dick was rubbing against her clit, ripping a surprised yelp out of her. He now could only reach her neck and chest, but wasn't about to complain, biting lightly at the already dark hickey he left earlier, and he suddenly felt her walls convulsing around him, while she felt blissed out by what he was ready to bet money was her first orgasm.

He didn't stop, though, spurred on by her tiny mewls and sporadic afterglow over-stimulation spasms, growing erratic as he finally reached his peak, not bothering pulling out as he came, just as it was probably starting to feel weird for her.

They stood there, breathing heavily, staring into each other's eyes, slightly impressed at their ability of not fighting for once in their lives,  until Irem started laughing.

“Well, that was... Interesting.” She commented.

“Interesting. I manage to get you to come and all you have to say is, 'that's interesting'?” He complained.

“Honestly, Jean. I'm not about to tell you 'wow, that sure shook the foundations of reality'.” She shifted, pushing him off her. He landed on his side and scooted closer as she didn't make any motions to kick his ass. “It was good, but it wasn't that good. I still don't know what's the fuss about it.”

He was slightly offended. The only words he found to what they just did was 'sweet, slow lovemaking' and she just brushed it off. Then he breathed in deeply. He was dead set in enjoying what was left of his afterglow.

“Well, maybe I should have just flipped you over and fucked you like the bitch you are.” He grumbled.

“Well, maybe you should.” She replied, cheerful.

He was about to get pissed about her playing little games with him when his door banged open.

“Jean, come on, I think we lost... Oh.” Connie said, staring at the both of them. “Captain, I found her!” He screamed down the corridor.

Irem let out a long suffering sigh and pulled her towel from under both their bodies, covering her body.  Jean couldn't help but feel a little vindicated at Irem's hero worship of Captain Levi.

“You got five minutes to get dressed, Jaeger. If you're not in clothes by then, I'm dragging you half naked back to you room.” Levi drawled, rolling his eyes.

As soon as the door was closed, both teenagers bolted off the bed, and Jean noticed a small pile of clothes on a chair next to his bed.

She pulled on her panties, and Jean pulled on some boxers, and he was in the process of pulling on a shirt when he noticed Irem putting on a weird garment, that pulled her breasts up and gave them a slightly round shape.

“What's that?” He asked curiously. “That's not like the shirts other girls put on.”

“It's not. It's a brassiere. It's the thing I wear under ball dresses.” She said, shuffling into her pants, and he had to muffle a laugh. She wiggled around for almost a minute before finally fitting in. “Damn pants. Anyway, brassieres are meant to support and give shape, not hold muscles in place like the shirts. The shirts also squeeze the boobs a lot.”

She pulled on her shirt, and Jean had to sit down for a while. Her clothes said nothing happened, but her hair screamed 'I just had sex'.

“Do something about your hair, it's sticking out everywhere.” He pointed out.

She scoured the floor and bent over, and Jean could see a damp spot forming between her legs. He was dead. Mikasa would murder him in his sleep. He deflowered her dear sister and she would rain divine punishment on him. He started praying to Wall Rose to spare his soul.

When he opened his eyes again, Irem had contained her hair in something that said 'yeah, we had some passionate making out sessions', and he sighed. Maybe he wasn't as dead as he thought.

When Irem sat on his lap and kissed him long and hard enough he got dizzy from lack of oxygen, Jean thought that maybe she would stop her sister from mauling him too much. Maybe she liked having sex with him enough to ask her to spare him from getting beheaded.

Too many maybes.

Sooner than he thought five minutes went by, the captain was blasting open his door and grabbing Irem by the collar of her shirt.

“Time's up, brats, now I don't wanna see none of you in the wrong room again.” He practically decreed.

The next day, he got a lecture by Commander Hanji, who was most displeased with this development.

“We are at war, Kirstein. I can't afford losing one of our most valued soldiers to motherhood just yet.” They said, shaking their head. “I am most disappointed, I thought you had more sense than that.” They opened a drawer on the desk and pulled out a wooden box. “I hope this doesn't happen again, are we clear? You are to stay in your rooms at night, understood?” They slid the box towards him.

“Yessir.” He replied, saluting.

“Good.” They got up and leaned across the table. “This week is Captain Levi's forced leave. Make good use of that information.” They whispered.

Jean saluted again and bolted out of there with the box. He only stopped when he reached his bedroom, and only then he opened the box.

There were several  small  tin packages, and he immediately knew what was inside. The girls in the brothel district made him wear those for disease prevention.

The commander had given him a box of condoms. There was also a note inside.

“ _Lovebirds,_

_ I have around a month's worth of condoms. Do not use them more than once, we can definitely afford more, considering I know how to make them. Return me the used tins and I'll give you more. _

_ Enjoy your week of relative bedroom freedom, _

_ Commander Zoë Hanji” _

He turned red from head to toe. This was the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened in his life so far.

(He wouldn't delude himself more embarrassing things couldn't happen; he was indeed only 16, there was plenty of time for say, people catch him and Irem having sex in full uniform in the middle of the forest.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> concrit, comments, incoherent yelling, all are welcome
> 
> now i can finally work on tiaras are for queens in peace.


End file.
